Chapter 90: Renovating the Mo Wang Castle
Zebulun’s eagerness to reach the Star-gazing Grounds was a good thing, but before they left, Misha felt they had a major problem to solve.
Genesis and Arlo would definitely come for a “spot check.”
Given their status, they probably wouldn’t come directly to the Mo Wang Castle. However, whether they contacted him via magic or through the Magic Mirror in his room, Misha needed to be physically present in the castle to wait for them.
Misha had considered using illusion magic to cover everything up. If he could create a persistent illusion of himself and the Yong Zhe, he could mask their absence. But Misha’s magic was mostly geared toward destruction and offense. A large-scale, long-term illusion of this caliber was beyond his abilities.
In fact, he suspected that very few people in this world could pull it off easily.
Misha had a headache.
He looked at Zebulun, who loved researching magic, and then at Lance, who had absorbed the power of a High God, sincerely hoping one of them had a solution.
Lance raised his hand slightly, preparing to speak.
Misha immediately looked at him with anticipation.
Lance: “I’m actually not that good at magic.”
Misha: “…”
Lance: “I can’t handle high-end illusions like that.”
Misha: “…”
Lance: “But if you want to blow up the Mo Wang Castle, I could give it a shot.”
Misha: “…”
Who wants to do that!
Misha could only turn to Zebulun, hoping for a spark of hope.
“I… might have a way,” Zebulun said hesitantly. “An appropriate magic circle should be able to solve your problem.”
Misha was instantly excited.
Zebulun: “…But it requires high-quality Mana Crystals to act as the source and filler for the magic circle’s power.”
“This is the Mo Wang Castle!” The wealthy Misha puffed out his chest with pride. “Tell me, what kind of Mana Crystals do you need!”
As the final boss stage of any Yong Zhe’s adventure, Misha was extremely confident in the Mana Crystal reserves of the Mo Wang Castle.
The warehouse was filled with thousands of treasures, piled high to serve as the ultimate reward for the Yong Zhe who eventually defeated him.
Life in the castle while waiting for the Yong Zhe had been incredibly dull. During those three boring years, Misha had examined almost every single treasure in the warehouse. He had even added several “future trophies” to the collection based on his own whims.
He never imagined that his carefully prepared hoard would end up being used for something like this.
Zebulun went to pick out the crystals, while Misha stood at the door of the magnificent treasury and sighed deeply.
He had spent three years painstakingly saving these treasures, only to end up giving them to this bastard Yong Zhe.
Misha really found it hard to stomach.
Lance was also curious, but he only gave the mountain of treasure a fleeting glance, seemingly showing no great interest. He stood at the door for a while, looking bored, then walked a few steps away to lean against a giant window in the corridor, resting his chin on his hand as he looked outside.
Since he wasn’t speaking, Misha followed suit and stood beside him, looking up at the perpetually murky sky of the Mo Wang Castle.
The castle was different from the outside world. The sky they saw now was merely an effect created by the barrier surrounding the castle. However, this barrier also resulted in a wretchedly humid and hot climate, with air so thick with the scent of sulfur that it was painful to breathe.
“The treasures of the Mo Wang Castle,” Lance suddenly spoke up, “are such a waste.”
Misha: “…Eh?”
Wait, why is the Yong Zhe suddenly saying this?
“All that money just gathering dust in a warehouse—it’s a waste,” Lance sighed heavily. “Wouldn’t it be better to use it to improve the environment of your castle?”
Misha: “Improve… what?”
“I wanted to say it when I arrived,” Lance said, frowning. “Isn’t the environment here a bit too dismal?”
Misha: “…”
Oh no, here comes another one of the Yong Zhe’s long-winded lectures.
After messing with the Dwarves and Succubi, was the Yong Zhe finally going to stretch his demonic claws toward the Mo Wang Castle?!
“Zebulun draws magic circles very fast!” Misha hurriedly tried to cut him off. “We might not even be here for a full day!”
“Mm.” Lance nodded. “I pack things very fast, too.”
Misha: “…”
Wait, pack?
Pack what?
Lance ignored Zebulun, who was still fumbling around in the treasury. He walked down the corridor toward the exit without calling Misha. Terrified, Misha scrambled to keep up. Although Lance was wearing a cloak to hide his face so the other monsters wouldn’t recognize him, his perfectly normal, non-deformed human silhouette was still far too conspicuous. Misha was worried he’d be exposed—and even more worried about his castle.
The word “pack” sounded ominous. He feared the entire Mo Wang Castle might disappear from the map in the next hour.
He followed Lance out to the courtyard, which was filled with eerie gloom. The yard was overgrown with weeds and twisted, dead trees that had been in that state for who-knows-how-long. Lance frowned deeply, observing for a while before finally asking, “This was caused by magic, wasn’t it?”
Misha: “…Ah?”
Misha found that hard to answer.
When he first arrived, the Mo Wang Castle already looked like this. Even if it was true, as Lance claimed, that this wretched environment stemmed from the magic of the Divine Realm, Misha had no idea how that magic worked.
Lance clearly didn’t need Misha’s explanation.
He stepped into the courtyard, carefully surveying the surroundings. Then, as if choosing a specific orientation, he walked over to the bubbling, murky pond and reached out his hand toward the water.
Misha panicked. He immediately grabbed Lance’s hand and shouted in alarm, “Human skin will get hurt!”
He thought Lance was trying to touch the filthy water and was genuinely afraid. To his surprise, Lance simply released a soft orb of light from his palm, letting it sink gently into the pond.
“The water quality is too poor,” Lance said, scowling. “It’s no wonder the trees died.”
Misha: “…”
Misha silently let go of his hand.
What was I thinking?
I should worry about anyone EXCEPT this Yong Zhe.
Lance withdrew his hand naturally, even giving Misha’s hand a squeeze and a smile. “But it’s okay. It’s not a big problem.”
Misha: “…”
Misha tried his best to pull his hand away.
Lance: “I’m actually quite good at this sort of thing.”
Misha: “…Good at it?”
Misha froze, instinctively looking at the pond, and then at the river that wound its way into the castle from the outside.
Good at what?
The Yong Zhe isn’t planning to fill in my river, is he?!
Misha shook his head frantically.
“It’s fine the way it is!” Misha shouted. “Everyone is already used to it!”
Lance: “…”
Misha: “It doesn’t matter if there are no trees! Monsters don’t like trees!”
Lance: “…”
Misha: “I think the scenery of the Mo Wang Castle is actually quite nice!”
Lance: “…”
Lance just gave a soft sigh.
“Forget it then,” Lance said. “I was going to tell you that the air in the Mo Wang Castle is very bad for your wings.”
Misha: “…”
Misha hesitated.
He looked at Lance dubiously, suddenly remembering that after three years in the castle, the feathers on his wings had indeed become more coarse and dull, losing the silky sheen they had in the Divine Realm. He had long suspected the humid, sulfurous climate was to blame. Now that Lance mentioned it, he was wavering. He just needed one more push to believe it.
Lance sighed again. “Such polluted air and water… it can’t be good for your hair either.”
Misha: “…”
Misha nervously looked down at his beautiful, long crimson hair.
Just like his wings, he had cherished and maintained this hair for years. It had been incredibly smooth back in the Divine Realm, but since coming here, it was no longer as silky, and the color even seemed to have faded.
Lance: “It’s bad for your skin, too.”
Misha: “…”
Lance: “And for your horns—”
Misha: “Fine! Tell me what I should do!”
Lance finally smiled at him.
“Don’t worry,” Lance said. “I’m quite the expert at planting trees.”
When Zebulun finally emerged from the treasury with the appropriate Mana Crystals, he was met with an utterly bizarre sight.
Misha was crouching next to Lance by the castle’s moat, seemingly busy fiddling with something using magic.
Meanwhile, the other monsters in the Mo Wang Castle were busy chopping down the dead trees, clearing away the weeds, and leveling the uneven ground. This scene of bustling, diligent labor… no matter how you looked at it, it shouldn’t be happening in a Mo Wang Castle.
Zebulun felt a wave of complicated emotions.
He even had a fleeting delusion that, at this very moment, he was the only abnormal thing in this castle.
He walked silently toward Lance and Misha, just in time to overhear their conversation.
Misha: “…But if this was caused by magic, how can we clear it?”
“It’s simple,” Lance said. “A tiny spell can solve it.”
As he spoke, he spread his fingers. Countless motes of light scattered from his fingertips, swirling over the strangely colored water. In the next instant, the light expanded. Amidst the radiance, the murky pond was purified bit by bit until it gradually returned to a clear state.
Zebulun couldn’t help but stop in his tracks, his eyes wide with astonishment.
Zebulun knew that the spell the Yong Zhe had used was anything but “tiny.”
At the very least, it would be difficult for him to achieve such an effect without relying on Mana Crystals and magic circles. This human hero was definitely proficient in magic—perhaps his knowledge even surpassed Zebulun’s own.
Zebulun wasn’t sure if he should remind Misha. Since the Mo Wang and the Yong Zhe seemed to be on such good terms, it felt like none of his business. He really shouldn’t meddle in the affairs of a couple—
Suddenly, Misha sprang to his feet, staring at Lance with a look of pure fury.
“Didn’t you say you weren’t good at magic!” Misha shouted. “Then what was that just now!”
Lance: “Uh…”
Misha: “You lied to me again!”
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